


Hogwarts Belongs to Us.

by MissWatts14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Founders, Gen, Magical Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13325928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissWatts14/pseuds/MissWatts14
Summary: The founders have watched the wizarding world change for a millennial. They watched as Dark Lord after Dark Lord tried bringing the wizarding world to its feet and never stepped forward to help. Instead, they worked behind the scenes, helping to fix the world they watched over for so long. But when Voldemort comes back, they're forced to step back into the roles they cast aside long ago to fix what should never have happened in the first place.





	1. Chapter One

He was blind and deaf and drifting all at once. There was fire coursing through his veins and he felt as though he was being slowly turned to ice while a sharp daggar pierced his organs. It made no sense in his mind, he knew enough to know that his body was simply lying down and that it had only been like that for no more than a few seconds, but the pain and fear and nothingness made it feel longer.  
Moments later the fire recided enough that he could open his eyes and turn his head with minimal pain.  
To his left was the bottom of a dark blue dress, its once white trim gray from the dirt on the floor and its wearer's lack of care. On his right was a pale arm covered in a golden sleeve that stopped before a delicate wrist and a nimble hand. He knew there was a third person somewhere, and as much as he tried spotting them, the pain that was once dulled burned brightly. He stilled as the pain burned through him and then just as suddenly as it began, everything stopped. He could move his body and feel the smooth stone floor underneath him. Straining he could hear the muffled moans coming from the woman in blue, the light panting from the woman in yellow, and the faint swears from behind him. He gathered all of his strangth and asked in a strained voice, "What the bloody hell was that, Sal?"  
The swearing stopped as a raspy voice replied, "I don't know. Something went wrong and I don't know what."  
"At least," the woman in yellow huffed, "it wasn't permenent."  
"That we know of," was the sharp reply from the woman in blue. The four remained silent as the slowly picked themselves up of the ground. Finally standing, the man looked at the other occupants in the stone chamber. The woman in blue looked ruffled, her long black hair dishevled and her slender face smudged with dirt. The woman in yellow wasn't much better, her honey blond hair was partically out of its bun and her rounder face also covered in dirt. The last occupant, a young man in a stained green shirt with brown trousers, looked the most grimey. He didn't think he would be much better and when he caught sight of his appearence in the floor, he grimanced. His red hair looked more gray with all of the dirt and wilder than usual, and he also had the beginnings of a nasty bruise on his jaw.  
"Well, what were you working on this time, Sal?" The yellow woman asked the other man. "Originally a potion that when poured on flames they would freeze and then become water," Sal replied, running a hand through his dark red hair. "I was positive that I had it but..." He sighed and gestured around the destroyed room. "A better question would be if there are side affects to whatever we were doused with," the blue woman said, gracefully walking towards the yellow woman. "Helga, would you mind checking us over? You are much better at dignostic spells."  
"Of course." Helga took out her wand and waved it over the woman before moving on to the other two. "Nothing wrong beyond a few scrapes and bruises." she put her wand away as the blue woman nodded. "What do you think, Godric?" She asked, turning to look at him.  
What did he think? The sharp, burning pain was just a memory yet it carried something— possibly harmless— over. He even said as much, getting a huff from the blue woman and a grimance from Helga.  
"Stop pesturing, Rowena," Salazar grumbled, red hair on end. Godric tried smiling at him but the bruise made it feel more like a grimance. "We should head back up," he said finally. "The children will be here soon."  
"And we shouldn't meet them looking like we rolled in a sty," Helga added, getting a scowl from Rowena. "Please," she scoffed, brushing at her dress with no avail. "We look like we went one on one with a hundred trolls and lost."  
"Well put." Godric gently grasped Rowena's and Helga's hands and led them towards the door. Sal grumbled before carefully rightening the desk and various cauldrons before joining them.  
As the door closed shut and the four walked away towards their quarters, something amazing happened. In the chamber white light pulsed slowly from one of the still up-right cauldrons. The light shifted, gaining a blue tint then darkening to red before lightening to yellow, green following afterwards before the lights started shifting faster. The colors merged and changed, blinking rapidly before a flash of white and the brief sound of ticking, the chamber became once more dark.  
The failed potion was gone, the cauldron clean expect for the faintest of tints. The four friends never saw nor heard anything as they greeted the newest students to Hogwarts and returned the older ones smiles.  
Later when the feast was over and everyone in bed, Salazar would go down to clean and the cauldron would be missing. The only evidence that it had existed in the first place was a small ring of ash where it had once been and, if you listened closely, the barest of ticking could be heard.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. As usual, I do not own Harry Potter.

The sun peaked just over the trees, lightening the white houses and chasing away the gray, pre-dawn shadows. A red haired man strolled casually down the sidewalk, a briefcase clutched in one hand. If anyone were to see him they would think he was headed off to work, either in an office or somewhere where the suit he wore stood out less. The man turned and walked towards the next street then down another until he stopped at one of the houses.  
It looked no different from the others. White paneling, dark gray roof, black door; even the lawn and porch bore the same unity the others had. The man hummed as reached into his suit pocket and fished out a key. Setting his briefcase down, he unlocked the door, put the key back and picked up his briefcase before stepping inside and closing the door.  
If the outside held all the dull sameness than the inside was an explosion of colors and objects. There were sterdy bookcases stuffed until they were overflowing, an antique case in the corner holding a magnitude of cups and vases, and little bottles scattered around. Mis-matched furniture and oriant rugs, hand carved tables topped with funny mugs and bits and pieces of paper.  
The man smiled, green eyes dancing even as he quietly crept passed the living room and dining room, passed the kitchen and into a short hall. Two doors stood on either side of a slim staircase, up which was another hallway and the bedrooms.  
The man glanced up the stairs before stuffing his briefcase in one of the doors and walking back towards the kitchen. Sunlight glinted through half closed yellow curtains, brightening the room considerably. The man paused as he heard movement from above.  
Shrugging, he continued on and by the time said noise stumbled in, he was already sitting at the table, a mug of coffee and the paper in front of him. "Good morning, Sal," the redhead greeted, eyeing his coffee wearily as the other man shuffled towards the table, blinking rapidly.  
"Godric," he mumbled. Godric watched amusedly as Salazar stumbled and bumped around until he finally managed to sit down, arms crossed and head resting on them.  
"Alright Sal?" He asked, taking a sip from his mug.  
Salazar mumbled something before lifting his head up and squinting blearily at the newspaper. "Oh, and what's going on today? The Wizengamot passing a new, ridiculous law? Voldemort's number on hag captured? A puppy tap dancing?"  
"Nothing quite so interesting, I'm afraid." Godric frowned, the humor in his eyes dimming as he turned the paper around so Salazar could read it.  
The other wizard frowned. "So he's back, big deal. We already suspected as much and the Minister is an idiot, which I could've told you."  
"I feel sorry for the boy, though," Godric murmured, staring at the picture below with unseeing eyes.  
Neither man stirred as the fireplace in the living room blazed to life depositing a short woman with curly blond hair. A bag was slung at her side and tired, though cheerful, blue eyes slid from one man to the other before locking on the paper with a sigh.  
"The attacks are growing, I'm afraid," she said.  
Godric stood and went to pour the woman a cup of coffee while Salazar went back to dozing on his arms. A moment later another woman, tall and put together, entered the kitchen. "I see everyone else is here," she said, sniffing disdainfully at Salazar. Godric hummed. "And good morning to you too, Rowena."  
"A good morning, indeed!" She crossed her arms, a scowl twisting her pretty face. All four of them were silent, only the crinkle of paper and the shuffling of cups around them. Finally Helga sighed, breaking the tension. "So, what are we going to do about this latest disaster?"  
Rowena blinked as Godric eyed her over the paper. "Well, I guess we could continue working behind the scenes. You have influence at St. Mungo's; Godric has enough sway with the public with all he's been doing; I have several public speakings."  
"But what about Hogwarts?" Helga asked. "We might be able to work from the side lines but what if that isn't enough?"  
Rowena opened her mouth then closed it, sighing. Godric didn't say anything, already knowing the brewing storm to come. "Well, what— we go back? Ruin what we have and what we have created?"  
"The school needs us just as much as we need it," Helga said fiercely, eyes narrowed on the taller woman. "Why don't we calm down," he said, setting the paper aside and nudging Salazar with it. Getting no response, he prodded the other man a bit harder before giving up. "Rowena has a point, Helga. We did create new lives and if the lime light was on us then those personas would be gone. And Row, we just might not be able to defend the school from the side lines. Voldemort came back and so far nothing has been done except beating around the bush and the Ministry's excuses."  
Both women glared at him, neither impressed with his speech. "So what do you suggest?" Godric grimaced, already picturing the stinging hex headed his way.  
"The Defense Against Dark Arts position is up again," he hedged. He waited with baited breath as both women stared at him, looking even less impressed than before.  
"You want to teach again?" He winced at the taller witch's voice. "Row, you have speeches and research, and Helga has St. Mungo's plus every other magical and muggle hospital. I think if we pool everything together then Voldemort doesn't stand a chance and we could calming and quietly fade away again. No one needs to know that we still exist."  
"And I assume you would take Salazar with you," Helga said, sighing. Godric grinned, green eyes twinkling.  
"Of course, he'll be a wonderful assisant."  
Rowena snorted, rolling her gray eyes. "Assistant, right. More like an annoyance." The wizard in question grumbled, gently shoving the taller witch. "I heard that and I'm a joy to be around, thank you."  
"So it's settled then?" He asked, glancing around the table. Rowena and Helga nodded while Salazar asked when they would leave. "Later today, I think. Better jump on the job fast before someone else takes it."  
Salazar snickered. "I think it's more likely Fudge appoints someone than an actual person steals the job, Godric."  
"Nevertheless," he said, "I don't really want to take the chance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and have a happy Valentines Day!


	3. Chapter Three

Several hours later two soft pops sounded near the Hog's Head. Godric, dressed in his finest robes, briskly started for the castle, Sal trailing behind him. "Maybe afterwards we could grab something," he said wistfully. "Special occasion and all."  
Sal snorted. "Do you really think Rowena will let you drink again after the last time?"  
"That was a fluke," he insisted, cheeks flushing as he steadily stared ahead. "I had no idea that both the dog and the deer would start trying to out do each other. And she can say she didn't find it funny but we both know otherwise."  
"If you say so."  
The two ignored the stares as they continued down the well worn path towards the castle gates. Godric honestly couldn't blame them. One tall red head that looked like he could crush you by accident and a slimmer one that looked like he would do it willingly. Neither one of those images produced the warmest of receptions on the best of circumstances let alone going down the forbidden path.  
"Remind me again why we couldn't just Apparate to the castle?" Sal asked, glaring back at those unfortunate enough to meet his gaze. "Sunlight won't kill you," Godric replied. "And Helga will be proud that you got some form of exercise." The glare he got in return was worth it, in his opinion. Few things could make Sal quite as flustered and red as reminding him about his hermit ways. Thus, Godric felt it was his duty to do so as many times a day as possible. "I'm a delight and you're lucky to be blessed with my presence everyday," Sal said, sniffing. He rolled his eyes but didn't argue-- the younger wizard always enjoyed going in circles with whoever he was arguing with until the poor victim was more confused and disorientated than when they had started. "While we're there, can you check for curses on the grounds?" Salazar shrugged, nodding. "Sure, can't get fired yet if I don't put any work into it." Oh good, he thought sarcastically. Wouldn't want to make it easy for me.  
A stern looking woman met them at the gates, her eyebrow raised curiously. "Can I help you?" She asked.  
"Is Headmaster Dumbledore in? I'm looking to apply for the teaching position that opened up." She looked skeptical but led them down the path and into the entryway. Godric grinned slightly, gazing nostalgically around at new pictures that hung on the walls and the odd scuff mark that was only noticed if you squinted just the right way and tilted your head just so. Some of which had been there before they started fixing Hogwarts and the rest from one prank too many or an expeirment gone too far. Professor McGonagall, as she introduced herself, curtly informed them that, yes, Dumbledore was in and would see them. Then she eyed them cooly before speaking quietly to the stone griffin and motioning stiffly to the staircase as it jumped away.  
"It's a great idea," he remembered telling his unimpressed friends. "What better way to tell this is my office than a griffin door?"  
"Your name," Rowena had said, completely deadpan. To this day he was certain that she would burn the door to the ground and dance on its ashes, with Helga taking pictures and Salazar holding him back. "Thank you, ma'am," he said, shaking off the rest of the memory. She nodded curtly, turned and left, never glancing back. "Her and Helga would get along swimmingly," Sal commented, idly findling with the bottom of his shirt. Godric briefly wondered if he should have convinced the younger to actually wear his wizard robes before dismissing it. Salazar wouldn't have listened, anyway.  
"Very well, indeed. We'll try and get them to meet, I'm sure they would appricate it." The other grimaced and shivered. "Let's not."  
The first thing he noticed when they entered the office was the pheonix in the corner, watching them. The old man behind the desk watching them the same way was the second thing. "Headmaster Dumbledore?"  
"Indeed." The man nodded, blue eyes twinkling. "How can I help you gentlemen?"  
"I saw that the Denfense position was open and thought 'hey, I'm good at denfense why not apply?' And so here I am." He gestured around the room and smiled, delibrately sitting down one of the chairs casually. He had decided to sound as though it were a sper of the moment sort of thing; something a rich, slightly eccentric man who worked on many projects would do. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes faded and a steely glimmer replaced it as he gazed cooly between the two. "And so here you are. Lemon drop?" He shook his head but Sal reached for one, thanking the headmaster quietly.  
Godric grinned and reached into his robes, bringing out several pieces of paper stapled together. With a flourish, he placed it on the desk and leaned back, the picture of confidence. Dumbledore's eyes skimmed over the content, his eyebrows steadily raising until they formed one long, bushy caterpiller. "This is very impressive, Mr...?"  
"Griffin," he introduced. "Griffin Hopkins and this is my assistant Sage Teller."  
"Well Mr. Hopkins, Mr. Teller, I would like to welcome you to Hogwarts. I'll have someone show you where you'll be staying and the children arrive on September, 1st. Might I suggest you prepare what books they need before then, though?"  
"A wonderful idea," Godric agreed. The two shook hands and Godric motioned for Sal to follow him. Neither of them ran into any of the other professors as they left the castle and then out the gates. "That went well," he said tiredly. Sal hissed. "What was up with the whole fool act?"  
"Thought it best to act like that. More likely everyone will believe that I'm incompentent and won't take me as a serious threat."  
"I don't take you as a serious threat," the younger muttered. Godric ignored him, knowing the other man was just pouting. "Come on, let's go find some teaching material before we head back, yeah?"  
"Can we stop by Apothecary while we're at it?" He rolled his eyes and nodded, already imagining the long day ahead. "Well then, no time to waste. Come on, let's go! I want to see if they have Horned slugs." A long day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this. Sorry for the long update but this story will get finished. Updates will be sporadic, though.


	4. Chapter Four

The day was, indeed, long. Finding actual reading material was easy, the crowds were managable, and Salazar wasn't nearly as anal about potions ingrediants as he could have been. No, what truly made the day long and exhausting was when they had gotten back to the house and the girls had stared incrediously at him.  
Rowena successfully looked like she had swallowed something unpleasent and Helga just sighed, slow and deep, with tiny huffs that sounded more amused than actually disappointed like she had probably been going for. "Griffin," Rowena repeated woodenly. "Out of all the names you could have chosen, you picked Griffin?"  
"Well," Helga said, eyes crinkling slightly. "At least we won't lose him in a crowd." Sal snorted, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face. "And nobody questioned you?" Rowena's voice gained a shrill aspect as she glared at the redhead. Godric frowned. She sounded more upset about the name thing than when he had tried to discreetly adopt the giant squid. And she hadn't been too pleased about that one, either.  
"You're over-reacting, Row," he said. "Over-reacting? You just chose a new identity this morning and now you can't use any outside influences. That's not over-reacting, that's stupid!" He huffed, staring at her before looking away with a huff. "It's not new," he grumbled. "I had Sal work on it about a week ago or so, something like that. I thought something else would be better than what I usually do."  
Helga smiled. "It's not a bad idea."  
"It's a terrible one," the taller witch grumbled. Sal hummed before casually asking if either of them wanted a new identity made as well. Godric winced as Rowena sent one of her new hexes towards the younger man. He ducked, blinking innocently at the woman. "Did I say something wrong?"  
She glared at him before rolling her eyes. "You're such a child," she grumbled loudly, much to his and Helga's amusement and Salazar's irriation. "You're the child," he parroted back, sticking his tongue out. The discussion on what to do— the planning period, as Rowena had called it— went down hill and turned into an all out war on who was more childish. "Don't worry, Row," Godric said, plopping into one of the kitchen chairs. The argument over who was more childish ending when Salazar remembered that he had one of his potions going upstairs. "Everything'll work out."  
"You say that like this entire thing wasn't a bad idea," she murmured drily. He shrugged. "I don't see the harm in it."  
"You wouldn't." The jab lack the force behind it and Godric couldn't help but grin. "Well then," Helga clapped her hands, drawing the others attention towards her. "Now that's all settled. Godric, why the new identity?" He could feel the heat rushing to his face and looked away. "It's not necessarily new," he pointed out. "But it's not old, either," she cheerfully replied. He spluttered, face as red as his hair, before sighing. "I didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention towards us. The two of you have steady jobs and identities; I have several of them, all of which have connections to you two, and Sal has one shady as hell identity that no one actually believes exists. I'd rather not lead any harm towards you two with my identity, connections or not."  
The two witches shared a look, neither one sure what to say. They had been alive for over a millenium and always made sure that their identities had connections with the others. "I suppose that might be for the best," Rowena said slowly, like she was repeating something in a different language. "It's just strange is all. Are you and Sal brothers again?" He blinked, shrugging. "I'd have to ask him what he made for our story." The silence stretched between them as Helga bustled around the kitchen, clinking pots and placing vegetables on a cutting board. "How's your research coming along?" Godric finally asked, shifting around nervously. The black haired witch launched into describing her recent project, her words merging together and hands jerking this way and that in her excitement. The redhead wouldn't be the first one to admit that Rowena Ravenclaw was especially dangerous whenever she began discussing her latest findings. Which was absolutely nothing. He wasn't honestly sure what else there was to find. It had been over a thousand years since they became immortal and none of them even knew whether that was the correct term for it. Rowena thought so but Helga believed that they were simply aging so slowly that it didn't show up very well. He didn't know what to believe but hoped Helga was right. Living forever was a hard curse just as much as it was a wonderful blessing. "Your potions can wait, it's dinner!" Rowena, bless her, hadn't so much as flinch when the shorter witch shouted next to her ear. Godric winced in sympathy. The blond witch was loud enough to rival those Weasley's, that was for sure. Moments later a ruffled, slightly burnt Salazar came in view. "Coming, coming. Sheeh, do you have to scream every time I'm out of the room?"  
"It's effective," she protested cheerfully, placing a dish on the table. "I scream and you come— what else would I do?"  
"Not blow our eardrums out," he muttered quietly. The older man shook his head, not surprised in the least when the blond smacked the younger wizard upside the head. Rowena chuckled, gray eyes crinkling even as she teased him. He leaned back, watching them. Yes, he would live a thousand more years if it meant being with his family. And no suppose Dark Lord was going to take that away from him, he would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you for all the likes and comments! Although I might not always see them, whenever I do they always make my day brighter. You can also find a few of my orginal works on Wattpad at erind451. I'll try having another chapter up here soon, as well.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Life happened and I lost a bit of insperation with this. Thank you to everyone for sticking with this so far!  
> As usual, Harry Potter does not belong to me.

"You're going into the wizarding world!"  
Godric flinched as another thunk sounded above. Rowena had decided early on that she would be in charge of 'helping' Salazar pack. That included screeching at him and packing the things she thought were important while taking most of his choices out.  
"I don't care how much you hate them, you need to bring at least three sets of robes!" A pause and then another, louder thunk sounded.  
"Because I said so!" At least she had a valid reason.  
Helga, her eyes twinkling despite the stern frown, placed another bag by the fireplace. "She certainly knows how to motivate someone," she said. Godric chuckled.  
"Indeed."  
The thunking stopped and moments later a scowling Rowena came down the stairs, a blue suitcase floating behind her like an obedient dog.  
"That man," she grumbled.  
"Packing not going well?" Helga just smiled at the glare thrown her way.  
"'Well?' I swear the man's trying to kill me. He refuses to pack any robes, refuses to wear any on the way to Hogwarts, and thinks I'm the one being overdramtic. He's literally going to kill me."  
"Am not."  
Godric raised an eyebrow as said wizard came in. Rowena sucked in her cheeks, glaring at the younger man while Helga snorted and giggled.  
"That's an interesting look," the redhead said, partially amused and horrified. The other raised an eyebrow before doing a mocking turn, showing off the baggy jeans and brightly colored shirt in all its glory.  
"Are you trying to get yourself killed? Because if your goal is to alert Voldemort and his followers into finding you then you're doing a great job."  
"Please," he scoffed, setting his suitcase down. "I could wave a neon flag and do a strip tease and he would still be obessed with ending everyone's lives. I think Fudge would take notice before that, anyway."  
Godric edged away, noticing the sudden twitch in the dark haired witch's eye.  
"Well, we should probably get going," he said abruptly. "Please put on something that won't draw too much attention to us," he added. Sal scowled but turned on his heel, "Perhaps wizard robes since you're going into Hogwarts."  
The younger didn't acknowledge Rowena's pointed suggestion, much to her irritation. "Come on, Row," Helga said, shrinking severla of the bags. "We should probably get going if we want to find a curse-breaker before the goblins do."  
The dark haired witch nodded curtly at the shorter woman.  
"I still expect those notes, Salazar," she called.  
"Have you found something, then?" Godric quickly asked.  
"Maybe, we're heading to Egypt to check out a few things."  
"Plus there's several medical texts that I wanted," Helga added. The three said their good-byes and seconds later they were gone. Sal stomped back into the room, decked out in his usual black clothing, much to Godric's amusement. "What, no color?"  
"What, no banshee?" Was his reply.  
"Apparition or train?" Godric asked, letting the matter drop but making a mental note to bring it back up later. Rowena was not a banshee nor anything else the younger could think of— he really needed to stop antagonize her. Train was the quick reply. The two shrunk and gathered their cases then apparited to King's Cross Station. Platform 9¾ wasn't hard to find, though he briefly wondered why exactly they needed to run through a wall.  
"Don't bother putting logic behind the illogical," Rowena had once declaired. She hadn't been a fan of the theatrics that wizards lived by. Less so as the wizarding world fell further and further behind its muggle counterparts.  
"And you thought I wasn't discreet," Sal huffed, staring with narrowed eyes at a tall blond wizard.  
"You don't do discreet, Sal," he said. "You thought bright yellow was a good fashion choice paired with blue stripes." A large group of redheads mendered past them, not even glancing in their direction as one by one they ran through the wall.  
"Look at the sky," was the muttered retort. The older man rolled his eyes but didn't aruge, already seeing the head ache it would cause. Platform 9¾ was just as busy as he had expected and finding an empty room was challenging but soon the two were settled in, the door locked against students or any other teachers who decided to take the train also.  
Neither one said anything as the scenery blurred and the hours ticked by. The food cart came by and several students, new and old, peered inside briefly before mendering off to their own seats. "Home sweet home," Sal mumbled.  
Godric smiled. Home sweet home, indeed.  
"Do you think we can see Slimey?" He had missed that squid something fierce.  
"I'm sure no one would question us," Salazar said. "After all, what's one more fool?"  
The older man didn't appreciate that in the least. His act was for a cover— undercover things always needed a degree in secrecy, not that the younger would understand that. Sniffing, Godric knocked against the other's shoulder as he got their bags down and strolled out of the compartment.  
"Are you coming?" He called over his shoulder.  
"Right behind you."  
The two shared a look before Apparaiting to the front gates. Another look and Godric strode forward before pushing the doors open. Show time.


	6. Chapter Six

The halls were empty of both students and teachers. Godric sighed in relief, glad that the two of them could walk to the Great Hall without acting like they had never been there before. Beside him, Salazar was putting his wand away and giving him a blank stare.  
"Don't cause any trouble before the night even begins," he said.  
"Who me? Any trouble I cause usually leaves no witnesses."  
The older man shuddered, imagining just what Sal meant by 'no witnesses'. It wasn't pleasant.  
Paintings watched them curiously but made no move to talk to them. They did, however, follow them diligently. Whispering quietly amongst each other.  
"Do you think they'll say anything to the Headmaster?"  
Salazar shrugged, eyeing the chittering paintings.  
"Probably not. Most of them might have heard of us but few of them actually remember us. So long as we don't act out of charater then everything should be fine." The older redhead scowled at the younger's grin.  
The story, he grimaced, was pretty solid, all things considered. Griffin Hopkins was a well meaning, if eccentric, wizard with too much time on his hands and a heart bigger then his bank account. It would explain why he would become a teacher for a supposedly cursed posistion without a care and also explain away his barely old enough assistant.  
"Ready for the show?" Sal asked.  
Godric flashed him a grin, excitement dancing in his eyes.  
"Aye, it's not everyday we come home. Remember— no trouble."  
The two carefully opened the door and peered inside. The Great Hall wasn't full yet, the older students settling down and the new students still being held to the side. With a nod, the two strode towards the staff table, heads held high.  
Godric smiled at the students, fully enjoying himself. He had honestly missed sharing his knowledge with others. Green eyes cut briefly to Sal before rolling.  
The younger redhead stared blankly ahead, an absent smirk plastered on his face. That would leave an impression and he doubted it would be a good one.  
Godric glanced away from the students towards the staff. The Headmaster was there, purple robes tamer than the ones he had worn when they had met.  
There was a large bearded man at one end of the table and a greasy haired man at the other end. And, he blinked and fought the urge to rub his eyes, a human toad wearing the more pink than he honestly thought possible.The chair on the right of the Headmaster was empty and farther down, closer to the Ravenclaws, were two more empty chairs.  
"Good evening, Headmaster, everyone," Godric greeted quietly. Sal nodded but didn't say anything, instead staring at the greasy man with narrowed eyes.  
"Ah, good evening, to you as well. Good trip?"  
He replied in the affermative before dragging Sal towards the empty seats with a cheerful apology. Dumbledore waved it away with a smile, his eyes twinkling and the greasy man scowled, huffed, and looked away. Godric made a mentle note to keep Sal away from him. The poor man didn't deserve whatever sadastic entertainment Sal had in mind.  
Minutes later Professor McGonagall stepped forward, leading the first years into the hall.  
Godric leaned forward, attention focused on the squat stool and, more importantly, the ratty and patched hat that sat on top of it.  
With a start, the hat began it's song.  
It was just as he remembered— so full of life and magic! Truly, the Sorting Hat was one of their more complex spells and he was immersely proud of it.  
Once it finished Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and fixed the soon to be students with a no nonsense look.  
"When I call your name, please step forward."  
One by one, students were sorted until the last student, a new Hufflepuff, made her way to her new table.  
Dumbledore stood up and announced several odd words and the feast began. Godric filled his plate, glanced at Sal, then added a few things to his, too. The younger man glared, much to his amusement.  
The feast wasn't as good as he remembered and the atmosphere was much tenser than he had honestly thought it would be, but he was happy for what felt like the first time in a while.  
Once the dishes were cleared, Dumblerdore stood up again.  
"The very best evenings to you! Now to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another full year of magical education awaits you—"  
"Hem, hem." Godric raised an eyebrow, his eyes cutting towards the Headmaster. There, her hand raisee to her mouth, was the frog woman.  
"If I may, Headmaster?" She said. He nodded, twinkle in his eyes never dimming as he sat back down.  
"Of course, the floor is yours, as they say."  
I would rather stab myself in both eyes, rip out my tongue, and listen to Helga trying to sing than sit hear another minute, Godtic thought. He glanced over at Salazar and nearly facepalmed.  
While everyone else was trying to stay awake, most chattering amongst themselves but a few looked like they were paying attention, Sal was building something that looked almost like the frog woman out of chips. And grinning.  
"What are you doing?!" He whispered, his eyes darting towards those around them before returning the younger man.  
"I'm building a pyre," he answered, casually placing another chip on the statue.  
"No pyres! We want to make it to tomorrow without any incidents. Like being fired," he mumbled quietly.  
"Heh, fired." Sal laughed, flinching several peas and a dollap of mashed potatoes. "That's funny."  
He gave up and made a mental note to go through the younger man's things later and remove anything harmful. Now he pitied the boring woman.  
Finally, after what felt like an enternity, the speech ended and the woman sat down. He didn't stick around to see the students leave.  
Instead, he grabbed Sal by the back of his shirt and dragged him away from the now complete food pyre.  
"I wasn't done yet," he complained, twisting and turning in his grip.  
"You are now," Godric stated. He ignored the other's protests as he navigated the halls, searching for their room.  
"Do you remember where our room is?"  
"Behind the tea ladies," Sal grumbled back. There.  
He moved quickly over and hurriedly gave the ladies a charming smile before saying the password and entering the room.  
It was nicely furbished with various shades of yellow and black. A fireplace stood at one end, a door leading to a small restroom nest to it. On the opposite side was two doors, the bedrooms, he remembered.  
"It's just as I remembered," He proclaimed, pleased.  
"Then they really need to redecorate," Sal said, serveying the room curiously. He snorted and strolled over to the desk in the corner.  
"Are you going to get something to eat tonight?" He asked, rifling through the drawers until he found several sheets of parchment and an inkwell.  
"Hm, not tonight. Tomorrow maybe?"  
"Don't eat any staff or students you don't like." There, he was being responsible. Rowena couldn't give him that Look and Helga wouldn't go off on how unhygenic it was again. Win win.  
"Get some sleep, then. We have a busy day tomorrow." He paused in his letter to glance at the retreating redhead.  
"And no more pyres!"  
All he got in return was a loud chuckle before the door closed firmly behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this. I do not, however, own Harry Potter nor anything associated with it.


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